


Animal

by Miss_Vile



Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [16]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Face Slapping, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23761453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: He stood there with his fists clenched tightly at his sides and a lump of hot coal sitting at the pit of his stomach. He couldn't understand why he was so angry and ravenous at that moment or why he was being pulled toward the door. Or, maybe he just didn't want to admit it. Whatever this was... he was too exhausted to fight it.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1396144
Comments: 15
Kudos: 99





	Animal

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't satisfied with anything I was writing so I wrote porn instead. Enjoy!
> 
> Named after [Animal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rB6WNMbaSIY) by Chase Holfelder.

Oswald couldn't help but feel useless. He and Edward fought almost constantly about the damn submarine nowadays. Edward insisted Oswald could do more to help, but he barely knew the difference between a Phillips head screwdriver and a rasp.

Today was worse than normal. Oswald arrived to deliver some food rations and even a few bottles of Valerian root and melatonin to help coax Edward into getting a good night's sleep. Oswald was fairly certain that his friend was forcing himself awake for days on end with nothing more than a nap to tide him over. It was making him cranky and argumentative which made him even more insufferable to be around. But, rather than accepting the rations and supplements— the latter being _extremely_ difficult to get his hands on— Edward insisted he help with this aspect of the submarine's construction.

“In case you didn't realize, this isn't exactly my forte!” Oswald yelled, slamming the hunk of metal down onto the workbench, “I don't know what you expect _me_ to do.”

Ed glanced down at the ASDIC display unit that Oswald had haphazardly flung and sighed. The bird was right, “I know. I'm just... stressed.”

“You and all of Gotham,” Oswald rolled his eyes.

“Just wish I had something to help me think straight,” Ed pressed his fingers into his eyes and sighed.

“Apologies, I seem to be fresh out of amphetamines,” he clapped his hands to his sides with an exasperated huff.

Edward glared.

“Is that look supposed to intimidate me?” Oswald scoffed, stalking forward. Then, in a mocking tone, he added, _“Riddler.”_

Ed shivered at the sound of his name and donned a crooked grin as he took a step closer, “Only if you want it to.”

“You have to earn it,” he stepped even closer, “Or _beg._ That's always an option.”

“The only one getting on his hands and knees is _you,”_ he glowered down at the smaller man and found himself admiring the razor-sharp features.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” Oswald tongued his cheek and smirked, “I'm sure you would enjoy me _stroking your ego.”_

“Perhaps.”

They're face to face now. Breathing into one another's mouths. It wasn't the first time they'd been in this position and found themselves locked in a battle of wills. Though, this time was decidedly different.

Oswald was the first to falter, suddenly timid and uneasy. His stomach was tied in knots, “Ed, what are we doing?”

“I... don't know,” Ed frowned.

Oswald stepped away. Conceding ground.

“Well... um... since I've proven to be completely useless when it comes to building a submarine, I'll just leave you to it,” he looked down at the floor as he walked away, too embarrassed and uneasy to look Ed in the eye, “If you need anything, just call for me.”

Edward watched as his friend and closest ally walked out of the room and down the hall. He would likely be heading back to City Hall, leaving Edward alone again with nothing but his thoughts and the giant hunk of metal he was struggling to weld together.

He stood there with his fists clenched tightly at his sides and a lump of hot coal sitting at the pit of his stomach. He couldn't understand why he was so angry and ravenous at that moment or why he was being pulled toward the door. Or, maybe he just didn't want to admit it. Whatever this was... he was too exhausted to fight it.

“Oswald,” he called out as he leaned against the doorframe. When he didn't hear anything, he marched down the hall, “Oswald!”

The Penguin stopped when he heard his name and turned to face his friend. He was momentarily taken aback by the look in his eye. He was walking with purpose down the hall towards him. The warlord scanned him for weapons out of habit and furrowed his brow when he found none.

“Ed? Wha—”

In a flurry of teeth and sweat, Oswald was thrown up against the wall as Edward claimed his mouth, rough and unskilled. The force of it split Ed's lip. Oswald barely had time to register what was happening before Edward pulled him from one wall and then slammed him into the next, knocking the wind of him. In his haze, he felt Edward's palm caress his cheek. He looked up and noticed the brief look of concern on his friend's face. Oswald nodded his consent before grabbing a fistful of Ed's jumpsuit and pulling him closer.

They nipped and bit and snarled at one another like animals. Oswald's hands roamed all over Ed's body until they made their way down to the bulge in his pants. The added pressure elicited a moan from the brunette and that spelled the end for both of them.

Oswald jerked at the coarse fabric of the jumpsuit. With one firm tug of the collar, buttons popped and flew off to some unforgotten corner. Ed's throat was exposed and he couldn't help but sink his teeth into him. It bruised and forced a high-pitched mewl that he'd never heard from the taller man. Edward, as a punishment, pulled at his hair.

They stayed attached at their teeth and claws as they stumbled their way into one of the offices at the library. There was a desk littered with junk and a navy blue suede couch tucked away in the corner. In one aggressive outburst, Ed flung all of the books and equipment onto the dust-ridden floor. He turned back to Oswald, lifted him up, and set him on the table.

“Eager?” Oswald teased.

A firm _slap_ and a rush of heat climbed up his face. Oswald gasped at the pain but the smile he wore confirmed for Ed that it wasn't an unwelcome sensation.

“Shhh!” Edward rubbed at the tender skin, “Stop talking.”

“I don't think I will,” he grinned ear to ear. He kind of liked this more animalistic side of Ed.

Edward slapped him again, this time a little harder. And again, just for good measure.

They both chuckled and dived into each other's mouths. Their tongues fought for dominance over the other but neither was willing to give up ground in this war. They could both taste blood which just egged them on even further.

Oswald wrapped his legs around Edward's waist and pulled him closer. They both shivered in anticipation as they felt their cocks grind together through the layers of fabrics.

“You could have had this sooner if you weren't such an asshole,” Oswald bucked his hips forward for emphasis.

“And _you_ could have had it sooner if you weren't such a coward,” Edward coiled his fingers around Oswald's throat. He only added enough pressure to make the other man roll his eyes to the back of his skull.

Oswald laughed out loud, bordering maniacal, “I _tried_. And _you_ didn't show up to dinner.”

Edward yanked him forward by his tie, causing him to stumble. Before he could right himself, Edward turned him over and threw him face down onto the table. The cold surface of the abandoned desk contrasted with the heat of Ed's palm pressing his face further into the hard lacquer disoriented him. He exhaled and watched as the heat of his breath fogged the surface.

One-handed, Edward stripped off the jumpsuit to reveal the greying tanktop worn with holes and frayed seams. He'd found a pair of jeans that he opted to wear while he worked so that he wouldn't cause further damage to his suit, but they were a size too small. The denim clung to him and accentuated his form. His cock strained against the zipper.

His hands clawed down Oswald's back as he lowered himself to his knees. He wanted to tear the fabric off of the other man but knew better than to damage his suit. They didn't have the resources to replace it and he'd never hear the end of it. Of course... Oswald could easily go without underwear. So, after tugging the man's pants down to his ankles, he opted to pull at the silky fabric with his teeth.

Oswald cried out at the pressure on his straining cock. Ed growled and thrashed his head from side to side until he heard the seams pop.

“Fuck you,” Oswald panted.

Edward just laughed and pulled the ruined fabric down to join the man's slacks. He trailed love-bites up the back of Oswald's pale legs and marveled at how the ivory skin rippled. He reached the back of Oswald's knee and had to back away when he flinched.

“Does that hurt?” Ed asked, his voice hoarse but still with an edge of softness that kept both of them secure and grounded.

“N-No...”

Ed grinned before leaning in and trailing his tongue along the back of his knee. Oswald gasped and attempted to wriggle away but Edward kept him firmly in place.

He continued his venture upward until he reached Oswald's cheeks. He shuddered when he felt Edward's breath on his exposed backside. Without any preamble, Edward pressed the flat of his tongue on the tight ring of flesh.

“Fuck!” Oswald gasped and bucked his hips, begging for more pressure.

Edward grabbed two fistfuls of Oswald's ass and held him in place as he fucked him with his tongue— Ruthlessly squeezing and clawing at the tender mounds of flesh. He could feel the layer of firm muscle buried under the softness which just made him want to squeeze even harder. He craved more. He wanted to absolutely _wreck_ his friend. Serendipitously, he kept a tube of petroleum jelly in the pocket of his jumpsuit to loosen bolts while he worked. He sucked at the flesh one last time before inserting a slicked up finger into the throbbing hole.

One finger quickly became two and then three.

Unable to stand the suffocating feeling of being trapped in the confines to his jeans, he pulled them down and slicked his cock while he scissored his friend open. He made sure to add just enough pressure against his prostate to make him squirm. Ed had to squeeze along the base of his own cock to stave off the orgasm that threatened to spill from him just from Oswald's screams alone.

Mercifully, Edward entered into him slowly. Inching himself deeper inside with small, languid thrusts. Oswald was able to catch his breath and savor the feeling of being full. The feeling of Ed's jagged fingernails digging into his scalp. His whole body shuddering against him as he buries himself to the hilt.

That mercy was short-lived. It didn't take Ed long to find a steady, relentless rhythm that made the two of them quake and moan. Oswald's aching cock bounced heavily against his thigh— begging for friction. He attempted to reach for himself, to stroke along his length in sync with Ed's thrusts, but the taller man was quick to grab him by the wrist and twist his arm behind his back.

“Say my name,” he demanded, adding pressure to the restraint.

“E-Edward.”

A hard _slap_ echoed in the tiny room. Ed clawed at the raw, reddened flesh of Oswald's ass.

“Say my _name.”_

Oswald licked his lips and turned his head just enough to catch the other man's eye, “Edward.”

Another slap.

“Eddie,” he teased.

Another.

“Say. My. _Name,”_ he growled.

“R-Riddler,” he whimpered. He couldn't see the state of his ass but he knew that it must be be-speckled with small reddened bumps. It would certainly bruise. The idea of being marked in such a way made him grin.

Ed grabbed him by the back of his high-necked collar, forcing Oswald to choke against the fine fabric and spun him around to face him. They melted into the sensation of their filthy, open-mouthed kiss. Ed's long, pianist fingers cupped Oswald by the balls and gave them a firm squeeze. Oswald panted against his mouth. It was almost too much all at once.

While their mouths fought for dominance, Oswald stepped out of his pants and pulled Edward closer- slotting their cocks together and causing them both to groan out the other's name. They locked eyes again and Edward desperately wants to be inside him again. But he needs to see his face. To see that _petulant_ stare, kiss him, and look him in the eye as he plowed him over and over.

He snaked his hand around Oswald's throat and guided him over to the couch in the corner. He sheathed himself and relished the look of utter bliss on the Penguin's face. He hooked Oswald's leg over his shoulder and angled him so that he could pound that perfect spot. His thrusts became more erratic and his lower back ached from the excessive movement. Luckily, there was a warmth that bubbled at his core that sent him tumbling forward. Oswald followed shortly after, screaming as he came. Violent and unbidden.

He couldn't breathe.

“Oswald?”

Ed's voice sounded distant.

“Ozzie, breathe,” Ed lightly blew across his face, forcing him to inhale, “I might've gotten carried away.”

“N-No. It's... It's fine,” his extremities tingled as he struggled through several choking gasps. His chest hurt. Hell, _everything_ hurt. Not that he was complaining, “I'm just overwhelmed.”

“Me too...” Ed buried his nose into the crook of Oswald's neck and allowed his muscles to finally relax.

“So... did _that_ relieve your stress?”

“A bit. Yeah,” Ed laughed, “Might have to repeat that and see if it's a sustainable way to relieve some tension.”

“You might have to give me some time to rest in between. It won't do either of us any good if you break me in two,” Oswald carded his fingers through Ed's hair, "At least I made myself useful."

"You were useful before," Edward held his face in his hands. Cradling his gaze, "I'm an asshole, remember?"

"Yes. And I'm a coward."

"Hush."

_"You_ said it," Oswald rolled his eyes, "Perhaps we can just call it even?"

"Even steven," he grinned, his glasses charmingly crooked and eyes brighter than Oswald had seen them in years. It took his breath away.

"Kiss me again?"

"I thought you'd had enough of me for one day?"

"If you'll allow me the privilege, I could drink from those lips any day of the week," he blushed.

"I think that can be arranged," he smiled, "But I'll have to check my schedule. My partner in crime talked me into building him a submarine so we can run away together with a mountain of treasure."

"Sounds like fun. Can I join?" he chuckled

"I don't know. He's a bit of a hardass."

"A _sore_ ass, you mean."

The two of them dissolved into laughter. Carefree and loving in a way neither man realized they knew they wanted. They basked in the afterglow and the hopeful feeling their reunion offered them. The submarine could wait.


End file.
